


The Great Human Tragedy

by saku0chi



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Boys In Love, Friendship, Love, M/M, Romance, Shounen-ai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-28 22:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6348499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saku0chi/pseuds/saku0chi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some years after the fall of NO.6, Shion works as a psychologist and aids people with their problems. Through this, he struggles with his own mind, both wishing for Nezumi's return and a new life free from memories of the Westblock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The psychologist

**Author's Note:**

> Dear readers,
> 
> This is a new attempt on the famed "reunion" theme. I hope to portray an emotionally strong and independant Shion as opposed to the usual outcome of this trope. Enjoy your reading! Thanks for stopping by.

Shion pushed back the rim of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He had bought them more out of style than out of need, and now they annoyed him as they kept slipping down his face. He had thinned out over the last few years. He was still quite muscular, but his face had lost its roundness often attributed to youth. Shion wasn’t specifically old, but now in his late twenties, he felt as though his mind finally reflected his appearance. Shion’s white hair often brought confusion to people meeting him for the first time, but once they saw his ‘condition’, no words were ever spoken about him being unusual. He could have dyed his hair back to a more age-appropriate colour but he liked it the way it was. It reminded him of times long gone by.

“So tell me, have you had any strange dreams since last time we spoke?”

The small woman in front of him looked up from her lap and into his blood-red eyes. She fiddled nervously with the hem of her skirt, her eyes still set on his, her mouth slightly agape, as if panting for air.

“Well no… not exactly. But I remembered something about my dad. I remember walking with him hand in hand in the city park. The flowers were blooming and the sun was warm and bright. He was so gentle, so fatherly.”

Shion set the clipboard he had been holding down unto his lap and leaned over in his chair. He spoke in a soft, soothing voice whilst never breaking eye contact with his patient. “Miss Clara, I think you may have created a false memory for yourself. You know very well that your father died when you were well too young to remember him.”

“Yes but… doctor, the memory is so vivid! If I close my eyes… I can smell his perfume! I can hear his voice, I can feel his touch. It’s so… _real_ ” she trailed off in a small voice, her throat heavy with unspent sobs.

Shion put on a pained expression on his face. Sorrow mixed with pity tinted his voice. “I know… the human brain is a powerful thing. It’s capable of creating images to appease you, as well as erasing actual memories to protect your mind.” He leaned back into his seat, picking up the discarded clipboard once more. “I think we’ve progressed nicely today. Let’s continue this next week. Please speak to my secretary on your way out to schedule a new appointment.”

The woman stood slowly from her seat, flattening out the creases she had made in her skirt. “Thank you doctor.” She walked passed him and came to the door of the office which led into the waiting room. Before leaving she turned to look over her shoulder at the mysterious young man with white hair. “You are very kind doctor” she said in a whisper, exiting the room quietly.

Shion waited for the distinctive ‘click’ of the door before relaxing his posture and exhaling a sigh. “Am I kind?” he mused. He ran a hand through his locks, from the forehead to the base of his neck, coming to rest on the top of his shoulder where he knew that the red snake coiled around his skin underneath his clothes. “False memories…” The young man closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against his leather chair. He too could smell it, feel it, touch it within his mind. He could feel warmth radiating from Nezumi, he could hear a sneer in his voice. That smell… old books and leather. Had Nezumi ever worn perfume? Shion could swear he could remember a light flowery scent…

His eyes snapped back open as real and fake memories flooded his brain. Even with his eyes open, he couldn’t erase the image of steely eyes staring right into his soul. “Perhaps I am bewitched. He was a woodland creature in the first place anyway…” Shion stifled a laugh as an image of Nezumi clad in leaves and vines pranced around in a field of flowers. “As if that would happen” he told himself, smiling beyond his self-control.

It had been several years since the fall of NO.6 and yet, Shion couldn’t completely forget about his early life. He had taken up human sciences as soon as he had rejoined the city, in an effort to aid and support the numerous people suffering from post-traumatic stress and various trauma. So many people had suffered before, during, and after The Fall, Shion wanted to contribute to the well-being of the citizens of this new city. In a very short amount of time, Shion had become one of the most consulted psychologists in Shinsekai, the new name attributed to NO.6, having clients travel from far places to hear his wisdom.

Every time his secretary told him about a new client from far stretches, his heart would jump in his rib cage at the mere thought that a certain dark haired man would appear in front of him. In his fantasies, Nezumi always came to him from a distance place, worn down from weather and travelling. He would barge into his office and announce his return, promising Shion that he was here to stay. In his visions, Shion was always overjoyed and all too happy to embrace the other boy, tears flowing down his cheeks. In truth, Shion thought that his real self and his fantasy self where quite different. He thought that if ever he were to meet Nezumi again, he’d probably punch the daylights out of him before doing anything else. Whenever he drifted off into his own little world, he always reminded himself that here, now, is where he lived.

For the well-being of the people, for the future of Shinsekai, for life.


	2. A Newcomer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shion gets a new client from a distant place but this stranger is not all that he seems. Could he somehow be connected to Shion's past?

A soft knock came on the door, followed by a timid turn of the knob and a small voice. "Doctor, if that's all for today, I'll be on my way..." 

Shion looked up from his papers to the person standing in the doorway and then to the clock. The dial read 19:00 and he quickly registered that it was way past working hours for his secretary. "Of course Matthew. Why didn't you leave sooner? Make sure to clock in those extra hours before you go" said he in an apologetic tone.

"Oh, that's alright doctor, I was just finishing up your appointments and schedule book for this week. Tomorrow you'll be seeing Mr. Brown at 8am, followed by Ms. Tanaka at 10, Mrs. Lee at 11, Mr. Smith at 2pm, and a Mr. Kamiya at 4."

Shion nodded as he listened, stopping momentarily at the end of Matthew's speech. "Who is that last client? Mr. Kamiya? Is he new?" Of course he already knew the answer to that. Shion new each and every one of his patients by name and face.

"Yes sir, a new client coming in tomorrow on the express train from NO.4."

"NO.4? Very well, thank you. You may go now. I wouldn't want you to get sick because of overwork. Who would I rely on if you weren't here to save me all the time?" said the doctor with a gentle smile playing up on his lips.

His assistant blushed a violent shade of crimson all the way to the tips of his ears. "Thank you doctor... you're too kind." Backing away from the door with his eyes fixed on his shoes, the young man exited the room and left Shion to his thoughts.

Shion reclined behind his desk, stretching out his arms and flexing his fingers in front of his face. NO.4 was such a long way from Shinsekai, it still amazed Shion that people found out about his humble clinic. " _I guess I'll have to brush up on my NO.4 dialects tonight..._ " he thought with a sigh. Shion was gifted in many things, but languages were not his strongest suit. He spoke and understood way more than the average person but still, he would have rathered a nice long bath over studying an obscure dialect of a different city. " _Well, the term 'city' is rather incorrect_ " he thought as he locked up his office and made his way through the parking lot towards his car. In fact, the 'numbers' and Shinsekai were more akin to countries than cities. NO.4, for example, stood on a separate continent from Shinsekai, hence the different language and customs.

Before he realized it, he had pulled up in the driveway of his house, its porch daintily illuminated by a lantern set on an automatic timer. Many things had changed after The Fall and yet, many things had remained the same. People still enjoyed room control panels in their houses, self-driving cars with imposed speed limits, robots to clean the streets and parks, etc. The difference now was that people had a _choice_. You _could_ turn on the auto-drive mode on your car, or the temperature control panel in your room, or you could choose _not to_. Shion always did the latter. He enjoyed being in control of his own world, instead of having his whole life dictated by computers.

He walked into his house, set the car keys on the table by the door, and bee lined for his study situated on the second floor. One of the first things that Shion had done after returning to Shinsekai was to collect books. His time in Westblock had taught him that reading was one of the greatest pleasures in life. When he was a child, and a resident of NO.6, books in any shape or form had been strictly forbidden by the government. "Keep the people illiterate, keep them under control" was the motivation behind such rules. However, Shion had been one of the rare few lucky ones to come in contact with books during the reign of NO.6. Thanks to Nezumi, a whole new and wondeful world had opened up to him via literature. That's why, when he came back and had the means to start building a collection, he had gathered as many volumes as he could find, in any language, and aligned them all along the walls in his study.

Shion walked over to one of the many bookshelves that adorned his walls. There, he picked up his favourite, "The Happy Prince", by Oscar Wilde. This had been his first book as a child, and again as a young adult, living in a  basement with nothing but mice as companions. " _Well_ " he thought, " _actual mice and_ _one very special mouse that could walk on two feet and have conversations._ " He smiled to himself, clutching the book as he sat himself in a leather chair facing high stretching windows. He brought his legs up underneath himself, much like a little boy would do, and poured over the lines of his book, rereading the same words for the hundredth time, until fatigue took over and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

\---

 

Shion woke up feeling stiff all over and very uncomfortable. " _Darn it, I did it again_ " he thought, putting the book he'd been reading the night before down on his seat. He got up and stretched out his body to try and rid himself of the odd aches here and there. His neck felt the worst out of everything. " _This is going to be a long day..._ " he thought as he searched for a clean shirt to wear. " _Plus I completely forgot to study up some dialects_ "

 

\---

 

"Doctor, Mr. Kamiya is here to see you"

"Very well, let him in."

Shion observed his new client like one observes a new species of animals at the zoo. The man was older than he imagined, with grey hair framing his face and half-framed glasses hanging off the end of his nose. The man wore an undistinguishable blue suit, complete with a vest and tie, as well as a matching trilby hat. Even though his face betrayed no emotions, Shion couldn't help the feeling of disappointment from hitting his stomach when he realized that, yet again, his fantasies weren't going to come true with this new foreign visitor.

"Hello, Mr.Kamiya. Please, have a seat. my name is Shion and I am the head psychologist and director of this clinic. How may I help you today?"

"Good day to you doctor." said the old man in a melodious voice as he sat himself opposite Shion. "I'm here on a special request. You see, I am not the patient that you will be treating."

Shion looked at the man with a quizzical look. "Oh? I'm sorry, were we mistaken in your application for an appointment today? I'm sure my secretary can..."

"No not at all" interrupted the man. "I did request this appointment however you see, my client is a very busy person. They wish to consult with you but sadly lack the time to do so. Therefore, I have been sent in their place to act as a recipient of your good words, so that I may then relay them to my client. You'll understand, I'm sure, that this is a situation which requires the utmost discretion."

Shion stared at the man in front of him with a mix of awe and disbelief. Who was this mysterious invisible client of his that hid behind a frail old man? He didn't like this situation at all and, even though he had vowed to help all those who seek his help, he could not bring himself to partake in this case.

"Mr. Kamiya" he started. "While I appreciate your business, I'm sorry to say that I cannot accept to treat you - or your client. As a psychologist, it is fundamental to my profession to be in direct contact with my client. How do you expect me to analyze and counsel someone whom I know nothing about? This cannot be done"

The old man said nothing, looking only directly a Shion, never taking his eyes off of him. Shion remained unmoving, staring right back at the strange man in front of him. His ears caught the sound of the clock ticking away on the wall as the minutes passed in absolute silence. Finally, the man stirred in his seat readjusting his leg and coming to fold his hands over his stomach.

"Doctor, I understand your position" said he at length. "But please understand mine. My client is a very... how to say, impatient person. They do not appreciate waiting, nor being told 'no'." Then, with sudden fluidity and agility, the old man stood up and rounded Shion's desk with a file in hand. "I'll leave this with you, doctor. This is a file containing information about my client, and I believe necessary to you. Please consider my case after you've read these documents. I ask only that you open your mind to new possibilities."

"Mr. Kamiya," replied Shion, ready to refuse once more.

"Please."

"... very well." Shion conceded. "I will look over these files and give you my answer this week.

"Thank you very much. You are truly as they say, a very gentle and understanding soul. My client will be happy to hear my report."


End file.
